


how rare and beautiful it is to even exist

by livhasnolife



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experience, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and they’re in love, careful im melodramatic and my writing reflects that, i think, i think this is the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written, the boys are really sweet, they don’t really say it but they become boyfriends at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:01:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livhasnolife/pseuds/livhasnolife
Summary: Keith holds on impossibly tighter, tucks his face into Lance's shoulder. He tries not to feel self conscious about the hiccups he can't help from slipping from his mouth and the way the fabric goes wet from tears. He flexes his fingers to assure himself Lance is beneath them. "I could've lost you." And years of repressed emotions come crashing down, and he feels himself begin to weep even harder."But you didn't," Lance promises. "You didn't."-Or: Lance is dumb and self-sacrificing and Keith just wants him to be safe.





	how rare and beautiful it is to even exist

The moment Keith wakes up in Lance's arms, he knows it's over.

He sleepily rises out of the grey of heavy, comfortable sleep— probably the best he's had since the last time they slept on a real planet, except this is different. As he comes to his senses, he notices the warmth encasing his entire body, the lull of a heartbeat, his head rising and falling this same way the tide does or air in and out of lungs.

Most of all, Keith notices how _safe_ he feels for once. It's the kind of tranquility he hasn't known since he still had his very fleeting childhood before his dad died. It is comfort in another human being. 

Keith knows it could all disappear the moment he opens his eyes, he knows all the peace and light he feels could be snatched away in an instant, so instead, he keeps his eyes closed for just a few more moments. He enjoys the feeling of another human being beside him, enjoys the floating relaxed feeling of just being able to lay there and let his thoughts drift. He enjoys not worrying, just for a bit. He allows himself to be selfish for just a few ticks.

Keith opens his eyes, and it has his heart seizing in his chest.

A soft green encases the entire room, light from an alien sun, and it feels like morning, but it's so different. It's familiar in a way that's just out of reach, like you're traveling up the same stair case you have your whole life, but the rail's just slightly slimmer. Lance's eyelashes touch his freckles cheeks elegantly, entirely swathed in jade. Keith cannot look away, even for a moment, in fear that this could all disappear. He works to save all of it to his memory, the curve of Lance's jaw, the part of his mouth. He holds it all, selfishly. 

In sleep, Lance's face doesn't look like that of a warrior. He looks like a kid. Keith remembers, piercingly abrupt, that they're all still just _kids._

He wants, not for the first time, to kiss Lance. He wants to make him smile, and smooth the worry line between his eyebrows, and laugh. He wants to make Lance happy.

Keith realizes, in the stillness of the morning in a hotel of a planet they just helped to liberate the night before, that he is in love with Lance. It's a dizzying shift, like toppling off the edge of a cliff, head first, and embracing the fall. It's having faith, despite all odds, that there's someone to catch you twenty feet below, and not caring if there isn't after all.

He realizes that even after he unsealed his eyes yet sealed his fate, Keith feels even more pacified than before. He would spend an eternity in Lance's arms if he was allowed— an eternity by Lance's side. Keith, who has been afraid of intimacy his whole life, faces this head on. He doesn't even need to focus on relaxing because this is _Lance._

His memory of the night before slips through his fingers like sand. There is nothing concrete to hold. It takes a while for him to fully remember why he and Lance are sleeping in the same bed.

It's always better the morning after. Whenever something went wrong, Shiro would always tell him to sleep on it, and he was always right. His head always got clearer after rest. This is slightly the same, but the moment Keith remembers the night before, he also remembers the sharp blood red and Galra purple and worry that stirred like breathing indigo. He remembers in a blur, only the important parts sticking out, like reading a book where every other sentence is sharpie'd out. He remembers going on a mission with Lance vividly, he remembers Lance taking the shot for him vividly, but after that it all blurs into nothing but emotional keywords. 

Lance took a shot for him.

Keith immediately looks back toward Lance, watches the rise and fall of his chest, and breathes a sigh of relief. Keith remembers that they had liberated the planet and had a coalition meeting in the next few days; he also remembers being dead tired. He remembers carrying a barely awake Lance to his room, too afraid that he would disappear if he wasn't right there.

When said boy begins to wake, Keith doesn't stop staring. He holds onto his resolve with trembling fingers.

Lance's eyes flutter open, big and navy blue and fond. "Hey hot shot," he croaks, voice laced with sleep.

"Hi," Keith breathes, surprised at the wonder in his own voice. 

Lance goes red. "Wow, uh... Is my bed head really that bad?"

Keith laughs, quiet, breathless, and quirks an eyebrow. "What?"

Lance ducks his head, previously mentioned bedhead blocking his face only slightly, doing nothing to shield his expression despite the attempt. "You're just.. staring really intently."

"Oh." Keith's heart squeezes, thudding, pounding, so loud everyone must be able to hear it. Keith thinks maybe he wouldn't mind. A part of him wants everyone to know. A part of him wants other people to look at him with Lance and think, oh, that boy's in love. It's so obvious to him himself and a part of him aches for the familiarity of having it be known by everyone else too. He wants to tell Lance. He wants to scream from every rooftop in this oddly shaped city. Instead, he turns his head to look at his hands, resting in the space between them.

"Hey, I didn't mean you had to stop," Lance coaxes, "I know my charm is irresistible." 

Keith lifts his eyes to meet Lance's. His mouth is quirked into a shy smile, eyes bright, and Keith doesn't even try to stop the smile pulling at his own lips. "Yeah," he agrees plainly.

Lance chokes, literally _chokes_ , and Keith immediately panics and starts whacking his back.

"Ow!" Lance splutters, and Keith stops immediately. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Sorry! I got worried and–"

"No, I meant the- the other thing," Lance's redness is back. He looks sheepish. Keith's eyebrows furrow.

"What other thing?"

"The thing you said? You can't just _say_ things like that, Keith, Christ. Give a guy a warning first." He goes impossibly redder through his spiel, and as he talks, a hair falls into his face. Keith doesn't even think before brushing it away. Lance practically squawks, taken aback, "See! That's what I mean!" before raising his hands to his face and rubbing at it.

"Sorry?" Keith says hesitantly, unsure how to respond.

Lance mumbles something but Keith can't tell what because of his hands. They lay there for a while, silent, just enjoying the distinct feeling of a lax morning before Keith clears his throat and inquires, "Are we gonna talk about last night?"

Lance's hands fall away from his face. He nods, slowly and almost unsure. "Yeah, we probably should." There's almost a sigh hidden in the words, but Keith chooses to ignore it. Lance is staring absently at the ceiling. Keith turns his face to stare up at it as well.

"I'm still upset, you know," is what he says first.

Lance doesn't bother holding back his sigh this time. "I know," he says.

"What were you thinking, Lance? You just– One moment, you were there at my back, and the next thing I knew you jumped in front of me and we were both on the ground. It happened so fast and you didn't even try to consult me beforehand."

"There was no time _to_ consult you! If I didn't act, you would've gotten _hurt_ , Keith." His voice breaks towards the end, and then his gaze is back on Keith, eyes sad but alight with the same embers that glow in Keith's own veins. "I don't regret what I did." His voice is steady and even.

"But now you're hurt." Keith takes in a stuttering breath, as shaky as his heartbeat, and places a hand on Lance's chest, inches away from the injury. The other boy shivers, barely noticeable, but Keith notices it. Of course he does. 

He waits until he feels Lance's heartbeat weakly through the thick fabric of a Garrison hoodie before proceeding, tone getting quieter with each word, "and I'm responsible. I should've been paying attention and it wasn't your job to protect me," Keith says, worrying his lower lip. "I'm supposed to have your back."

"Except it literally is my job," Lance scoffs, still not unkindly. His voice softens. "We're a team. I'm here to protect you, and you would have done the exact same for me. You had me back. Jumping in front of you was my choice." 

When Keith still doesn't look up, Lance grabs the hand still pressed to his heart, and squeezes. "Hey, Red, are you still with me? You know this isn't your fault, right?" 

Keith tastes blood in his mouth from how hard he bites his lip. Logically, he knows Lance is right, but he also knows he feels for Lance. He feels for Lance in a way that makes him believe he can move mountains, oceans; very planets themselves. 

"You could have died. You could have died because of me." And then everything unravels. Keith feels himself shaking, feels the regular but unfamiliar sting of tears fighting to be shed. He curls further into himself, tries to protect himself, to not let Lance see him like this, but Lance is having none of it.

"Oh, Keith, nononono. Hey. _Hey_ , look at me. Please?" His voice is so soft it hurts, pleading, but Keith can't look up. He can't. He knows he'll cry and Keith is not one to ever be so vulnerable if he can help it. Lance places a hand, warm and comforting on his chin before raising it to connect their eyes. He moves Keith's hand on his chest to his pulsepoint on his wrist instead. "Do you feel that?" he asks, waits for Keith to nod before continuing, "I'm alive Keith, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, and I will move heaven and Earth and anything else in my way to stay that way." Lance hasn't looked away throughout the whole thing, eyes intense, "But if I'd do that much for me to stay, you need to understand that that's only a fraction of what I'd do for ensuring you're safe." Keith's breath hitches. He squeezes Lance's wrist, holds it like a lifeline and fights back sobs. Lance is here. Keith is holding him. "None of this is your fault Keith." 

He looks into Lance's eyes, so sure, so comforting, so easy for Keith to read, so familiar, and then he breaks. The first tear falls, and then the second, and then Keith can't stop. Lance pulls him to his chest and wraps his arms around him, pressing him to relax despite how he's shaking like a leaf. Keith feels small and fragile and so vulnerable and raw that it's verging uncomfortable, but Lance is there, nonjudgmental and constant. Keith isn't worried Lance will make fun of him or hurt him because Lance would never in this situation. Keith latches on and allows himself to cry himself out for the first time in a long time, while all the while Lance runs a hand through his hair and whispers, repeating, a mantra, "I'm here. I'm here. I'm here."

Keith holds on impossibly tighter, tucks his face into Lance's shoulder. He tries not to feel self conscious about the hiccups he can't help from slipping from his mouth and the way the fabric goes wet from tears. He flexes his fingers to assure himself Lance is beneath them. "I could've lost you." And years of repressed emotions come crashing down, and he feels himself begin to weep even harder.

"But you didn't," Lance promises. "You didn't."

"This has been so much," he says, pathetic and tired and exhausted beyond his years.

Lance sighs, and Keith physically feels it as if he's sighing himself, "I know, mi cielo. I really do. I feel tired to the bones with you. But we're still fighting, and you are so _strong_ ," every word is colored with emphasis. "You keep up an amazing fight constantly. It's okay to give yourself a rest every once in a while when you're going so constantly. You're our fire. Our passion. You keep us going," he pauses, considering, "you keep me going." Keith holds on tighter, never wanting to let go.

He laughs, a wet and broken thing. "How did you end up here with me in the middle of a war?" The tears slow.

"I followed you, like I always did- do. Will," he says, like it's obvious, clear as day. As if he didn't send the sky toppling from its place above them.

Keith pulls away. "Sorry," he says, almost as an afterthought, almost to himself, because he didn't want to pull away. "What?"

"What?" Lance asks, genuinely confused.

"You- you _followed_ me here?" 

"Uh, yeah. You didn't know?" He tilts his head a little, face scanning over Keith's, assessing but not in a way that makes Keith feel bare. Not in a way that's unwanted. The whole thing wreaks of intimacy, hands and legs intertwined and twisted in covers. They face towards each other and their voices are soft. Keith is bursting at the seams.

"No? What do you mean you followed me?"

Lance clears his throat, looking embarrassed. He disconnects a hand from Keith's own to raise it to his neck, and Keith, for a greedy moment wants to pull it back. "I mean exactly what it sounds like, really. We snuck out of the Garrison and I recognized your dumb mullet and I went to follow you, dragging Pidge and Hunk along with me."

Keith takes a moment to process that. Lance followed him. Lance followed him to space. Lance followed him when he had to take over as leader. Lance has followed him whenever he's needed it, has supported him. Keith takes in everything. He grabs at memories like they're leaves falling in autumn and hopes he never forgets. He looks at Lance, who he loves, and notices the mole on his jawline and the dip in his ear and the way his hands feel entirely right in Keith's and his stomach swoops because when he looks at Lance, Lance is looking back. "Wow," Keith slips, surprising both of them. 

"Wow? That's all you have to say?" and then Lance is smiling, big and dazzling and the way Keith wants him to always look like. Lance glitters with joy.

"What do you want me to say? How lucky I am that you chose to follow me every step of the way?" Keith grunts, but he's smiling. Lance stumbles over his words. 

"That's cheating! Oh my god!" He buries his face against Keith's neck but it just means Keith can feel his smile and he can feel how warm he is. Keith thinks, distantly, how much joy this boy brings to his life, even here, and he finds himself hoping that he never leaves. 

He laughs, giddy and high and adoring. For a moment he feels Lance go rigid, tensing, but then it seeps out of him. "Dude. You have such a nice laugh." He sighs contentedly against his neck and Keith stops laughing, shocked into silence. He becomes hyper aware of Lance's warm breath across his shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Thanks," he croaks, after his heart finally starts working again. Lance draws back, and Keith wants to say, _come back_. He pinches a piece of his skin instead, hard enough to keep himself from talking.

They get silent as the tension builds. They're just looking now, and it should feel weird, but it doesn't. They're so close Keith can feel Lance's breath on his lips. 

"I like you," Keith blurts, unable to stop it anymore, sealing his own fate. The horror sets in and he expects Lance to leave, but after the stunned silence dissolves, Lance's eyebrows shoot up before he grins so wide it's splitting. Keith can't handle it.

"Really?" 

"Was it not obvious?" Keith's eyebrows furrow.

"Dude, what?! No! I thought you hated me at first," he admits, blindsided but still smiling. He puts a hand on Keith's cheek. Keith leans into the touch.

"Never," he says, small, inaudible almost.

"What?" Lance asks.

"I said never," he reiterates, louder. "I never hated you. I could never hate you."

Lance's smile shrinks into something more intimate, something softer, something reserved for Keith. His eyes are unbelievably enamored. "I love you, Keith." 

The words come through like the first winter wind, biting but fresh and crisp and welcome. It's a slap in the face, but one that helps him realize something. He's grinning, he can feel it. He can feel the way his face morphs completely, blooming with joy. "Oh. Nice."

Lance snorts, "Yeah," but then his voice grows sentimental, "It is."

The air in the room is light in a way that's heavy, significant. Keith's eyes flicker down to Lance's lips. "Can I kiss you?" 

"I thought you'd never ask," and then, "No, seriously, I literally thought you'd never ask. This happening? Only ever expected it in my—"

And Keith bonks straight into his nose.

"Ow, okay," Lance says, surprisingly calm, rubbing the area between his eyebrows. "That hurt."

"Sorry," Keith panics, "Fuck. I messed that up. Fuck. Sorry."

"No, hey, it's fine. Let's try that again with less.. head butting? Aggression? Both?" Lance's words, full of amusement, immediately calm him down like a rainstorm dousing a forest fire out.

Keith nods. "I'm not exactly experienced, so..."

"Wait, what?"

"Don't make me say it." He feels his face growing readily hotter.

"No way," Lance says, disbelieving, "Have you never kissed anyone?"

Keith shrugs one elbow and Lance gasps.

"How?? That literally goes against all laws of nature?"

"You don't have to be mean about it," he grumbles, even his ears growing impossibly warm.

"I didn't mean it like- shit. I just mean that you're a catch and I don't know how nobody's ever kissed you before," Lance elucidates. Keith goes red. "Awwww, you're cute when you're embarrassed."

"Shut up," he snaps. Lance wiggles his eyebrows.

"Make me." He giggles.

"I, uh," Keith stutters. "I still don't know what I'm doing."

Lance blinks. "Oh. Right." And then he's positioning Keith's face and leaning in and—

And it's so much better. The angle is just right. Keith feels warmth flood his body, lungs jumping in his rib cage. He can feel himself glowing. Lance kisses him the way he holds him- caring and nonjudgmental and unwavering. Lance kisses like the ocean lapping gently against the shore. Keith secures his hands in his hair and holds on for the ride, kissing back with enthusiasm. Lance smiles against his lips and then they're both giggling and Keith has never been so warm-hearted in his life.

"I'm so happy," Lance says. "I've wanted this since the Garrison. I've wanted to kiss you and make you laugh like that. I've wanted your attention."

"I'm so smitten with you, Lance McClain," Keith says, resting his forehead against Lance's. 

"Smitten, huh? What are you, eighty-five?"

Keith shrugs, "You love me just the same."

The atmosphere falls back into seriousness. "Yeah. That I do."

Keith feels his heart burst. "This is— Wow."

Lance laughs, full of light. "Couldn't agree more, sweetheart."

"No," Keith protests immediately, but the way his stomach flips tells a different story.

"Baby. Angel. Darling. Love of my life," Lance teases, smile wicked.

"I hate youuu," Keith groans, putting a hand to his face.

"No you don't," Lance sing songs, all too smug.

"No," Keith repeats, playfully considering, "I suppose I don't."

—

_I will love you with every single thing I have._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please leave me feedback if you feel so inclined! also listen to sleeping at last bc they’re good
> 
> twitter: ceciiysmith


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